


Warmth in the touch

by Get_below_my_line_of_vision



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Enjolras, Awkward Crush, Awkward Enjolras, Bisexual Grantaire (Les Misérables), Comedy, Drinking, Fluff and Humor, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Socially Awkward Enjolras, a really brief mention of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26804872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Get_below_my_line_of_vision/pseuds/Get_below_my_line_of_vision
Summary: Enjolras gets drunk and confesses how he feels about Grantaire. Turns out, their attraction was... different. But they make it work. Not through any laborious hardship, but just by loving each other.
Relationships: Combeferre & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 35





	Warmth in the touch

**Author's Note:**

> Who wrote this when they wanted to sleep? I did.  
> Who wrote this at 2 am? I did.  
> Who knew they shouldn't be writing so late but did it anyway? I did- wait that doesn't work.
> 
> Who doesn't have the ability to reread their own stoof? C'est moi.

Concentrating on the finance and the bills and overall organisation was taxing. With a pen in hand, Enjolras scribbled away, his head resting on his palm. There were way too many zeros and ones and twos that he could not focus. Every time there was a solution another problem arose. He regretted how he found this feature to be attractive when he first volunteered to be the leader of Les Amis. For a long period of time he treated this as a puzzle, but now it was just a burden.

It also didn’t help that people were still in the cafe, drinking and laughing in the background.  
There was a hole in his heart, he could feel it. The sense of longing. Whenever he looked at them, it was too painful. With his index finger subconsciously circling, he would imagine how it would feel like to live their life. How… Airy and light their problems must be. Then he would be immediately brought back down, shaming himself for thinking his problems were bigger than the others’.

Sighing, he scribbled down more; crossing out numbers and adding some more.

Bored, he looked at the bar. That was where a whole lot of socialisation took place. Fuelled by alcohol, people would be more confident and expose their true self. Albeit, there was a limit to how much they could drink until they turned into assholes.  
Well, perhaps not for Grantaire. There were two major reasons why he thought so: Grantaire never had a limit- he would keep drinking and the liquid would forever be descending down his empty soul, like a waterfall with no end. The other reason was Grantaire was often an asshole. Or he had no filter. One of the two.

Why, in the bar of course Grantaire was there, chatting to some woman and holding her waist as she leaned into him, laughing. He hyper focused on the curl which blocked Grantaire’s eye and wondered how he could see and how much of an annoyance it must be to his vision. In fact, he wondered approaching him and pushing the rebellious strand of hair behind his ear. But that would be weird. Why was he thinking about him again?

Enjolras looked down at his right hand and noticed he was no longer holding a pencil. He sighed, picked it up and continued writing. His brain was still very much distracted.

He wrote a one then a two then, for a second, believed he had returned to how the original number used to be. Thinking he had completely backtracked on his calculations and had made a loop and no advancements, he yelped.  
Almost immediately he touched his head and rested it on the wooden table. It was hopeless. His brain didn’t function anymore. Or as Grantaire once described it: his brain was “dry”.

“Woah, Enj, you alright?” Combeferre slid next to him, sighing as he said “Scooch.”  
“No I’m not alright. I can’t even work out a simple equation. What’s eighty four divided by six?”  
“Okay,” Combeferre chuckled as he passed the bottle in his hand to Enjolras, “I think you should drink. Relax a bit. I’ll take care of this. For today.”  
“No you won’t.”  
His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh yes I will.”  
“It will be Courfeyrac.” Enjolras snatched the bottle and brought it to his lips yet didn’t drink it; he hadn’t even tilted the bottle yet. It floated just below his bottom lip, facing upright.  
“Enjolras- geez,” Combeferre used his index finger to aid the bottle to be lifted slightly higher as he tilted it. “Not everything has to be about our cause.”  
A sharp blue flame ignited in his eyes.  
“Of course our cause is important, Enj! But you’re not going to be much of a help if you’re sleep deprived all the time.”

Hey, that was a good point. Enjolras wasn’t quite sure if the world had turned off the lights or his brain was breaking down and that he was hallucinating black blotches everywhere.

“Hey… Are you okay?” He shook him a bit.  
Enjolras downed the beer, taking his advice seriously. It was bitter and gross and definitely would not drink again. However he felt no effects take place in his body.  
Since it hardly left any mark on him apart from a disgusting aftertaste in his tongue, he wondered why anyone would drink by choice.

Especially Grantaire. He wasn’t fully dressed without a bottle in hand. Or at least that was how he imagined him; he had never seen him in the daylight. Only late evenings when the meetings would take place.

“Grantaire....” Enjolras muttered, his words pushed out of his faintly numb lips. He wanted to complain that he was really worried about his health. But then again he didn’t want to talk to him. Otherwise they may spark another debate which he did not have the time for.  
“What? Grantaire?” Combeferre whipped his head to the direction of the bar. The drunkard was leaving with the woman beside him. “Why?” He turned back to Enjolras who continued drinking his beer. “Oh.” He misunderstood. “I think you need rest. I will set up a place for you to sleep upstairs. Duvet and all. Believe it or not a lot of people pass out here.”  
“I want to drink more. I’m frustrated.”  
“Because of maths?”  
“Because of the whole thing, ‘Ferre! And… And…” He groaned out loud. “I need to be a better person.”  
His eyes widened. “Do you want to talk… about it?”  
“I don’t have the patience to do so. Buy me a draught lager and I’ll go upstairs. I’d rather drink somewhere private where no one’s watching me.”

There were several ways of interpreting what Enjolras had just said. On the blond’s side the meaning was that he wanted to cry and drink alone. However, to his best friend’s side, it was more that Enjolras wanted to be alone with somebody. 

So, after Enjolras wobbled upstairs with his light weight drinkiness, he looked around and confirmed nobody was in fact upstairs. He sat down and drank a pint. He needed sleep. But he also needed alcohol.

He could hear the steps becoming larger and the smell the booze. “‘Ferre, I know I said-”  
“”’Ferre”?” The man paused in the creaky steps.  
Recognising the name, Enjorlas sat up, suddenly sober. “Grantaire? What- what are you doing here?”

There was a second of buffer before Grantaire burst out laughing casually, “‘Ferre dragged me away from… a person I was chatting to because he insisted you needed me here. He then, uh, gave me two pints in my hand even though I said I didn’t want any.”  
He scrunched his face. “But you always want to drink.”  
“Since when?”  
“Since you never put your bottle down.”  
“Yeah, because I drink it infrequently. So it takes me a long time to finish a damn bottle.” He crouched next to Enjolras.  
Seeing from how Grantaire wasn’t going to leave the room, Enjolras shrugged and drank from the pint Grantaire kind of offered. “I hate everything.”  
“Welcome to the club.”  
“I understand nothing.”  
“I’ve been there. Still am, I’m going to be fair to you.”  
Enjolras choked. “Beer is disgusting.”  
“I know.”  
“Why do you drink so much?”  
He raised his eyebrow.  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” He lifted his hands up in the air, “Why do you drink it everyday? Is that a better worded question?”  
Grantaire sighed as he properly sat on the floor, ignoring the empty chairs they were surrounded by. “To drown out my thoughts. Can’t do anything stupid. I don’t speak, I don’t do. I’m… a blur. No one knows the true me. Well, at least a certain person doesn’t.”

There it was again. Enjolras noticed how whenever they had a ‘serious talk’, Grantaire would mention having some sort of a lover. However, every time, he was let down. Perhaps it was an unrequited love? Jealousy maybe?

How did Grantaire feel about them? Did he feel comfort when talking about that someone with him? If so, why? Was it because he admired him? Grantaire had mentioned several times that, despite their recurring arguments, they were “chill”.

Did Grantaire feel the same way as Enjolras did when this subject would rise? Did he also feel the need to sit next to the heat? That he wanted to touch Enjolras’ arm, stroke the skin to feel the softness and murmur that everything would be alright?  
No, that was too specific. Grantaire wouldn’t feel like that.

Then what about with the person he was in love with? Was that the reason why Grantaire would flirt with many women and men? To get his mind off of that person who would not reciprocate his advances? But who would do that? Grantaire, for all his worth, had charisma and was a genuine person after some digging into his heart. There could have been a chance his love interest didn’t dig enough to discover this. That would have been very lazy of them.

To translate all of this tangible thinking, he moved closer to Grantaire; not in the same way as Combeferre, no, not as a friend. Enjolras carefully pressed his hand on his arm and felt the soft hair which brushed against his fingers as he slowly stroked. “I hope… That person will love you too.”  
Without hesitation Grantaire drank from the remaining glass he was holding, his eyes oversized.  
Enjolras moved his hand to press against his bicep. It was true: alcohol did give him confidence. He had always wanted to know for sure how muscular he was. It was a back-of-the-mind-curiosity, however it was a curiosity which wouldn’t leave. “R?”  
He gulped.  
“I don’t think I’m normal.”  
Grantaire was taken back. “No, no, no, what do you mean?” He shifted so he was facing him and stroked his chin. “It’s okay. Whatever you’re feeling right now, I encourage it.” He smiled with his eyes a bit teary. “I’m a little nervous because it’s like a dream come true- and I’m not over exaggerating that in the slightest- and I just want to make sure so I want you to make the first move and-”  
“What do you feel?”  
“And- What?” Pink flashed his cheeks. “What do you mean, Enjolras?”  
He shook his head. “Nothing. You’re warm.”  
“I- uh, thank you?” He sat back down, his hand on his chest. He started smiling to himself. It was cute. “I really thought you were going to say something else then. My heart just wouldn’t stop beating.”  
“Your heart should never stop beating.”  
“No, I meant more than- you know what, nevermind, do you want more drinks?”  
Without saying a word, Enjolras nodded.

Grantaire was quick to his feet and started walking away.

Then another thought hit him. What if Grantaire was so embarrassed he wouldn’t come back? What if he never gets the answer to his question? What if…  
Then he realised what he was feeling. Well, not to the exact word, but he knew whatever it was, it was intense. And he wanted Grantaire to be beside him.

“Grantaire? Don’t go.”  
This was it. Grantaire had completely stopped working. His foot was in front, ready to hit the step below but his entire body had been pressed paused.  
“I.. I need you.” Shit. That was misleading. “I mean- I want you beside me. No, wait. I can’t speak. It’s the alcohol. And lack of sleep. And-”  
“What do you want to tell me?” Grantaire’s face was serious, his eyes wide and unblinking.  
“I don’t know! You’re on fire!”  
“What?”  
“You’re like… a radiator.”  
“I’m a what?”  
“Heat source! That’s what I mean! I love looking at you, I love thinking about you, and I’d rather have this conversation quietly so can you come over here please?”

Confused on what was happening, Grantaire nodded and returned to where they were originally sitting. With every step he took, his face became redder and redder.  
“I want to touch you and I dream of touching you- not in that way so you can un-ajar your jaw.”  
He nodded again, rattling his head.  
“I like your figure and I like your personality. I don’t like it when you talk to other people romantically and I become frustrated with myself. Usually it won;t matter much but I am already burdened with so many things going on in my head right now I don’t have time to think about how I feel about you.” He huffed, realising he had just rapped a rant. “Ah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just info dumped everything on you and-”  
“It’s fine, Enjy, I just… Um… I don’t know what to say. Is this a confession? Because I’m so confused.”  
“Yes. No.” He thought for a while. “I think it is.”  
“Okay. Well. Is it my turn?”  
“Sure.” He scooched closer, fascinated in what the man would say.

Grantaire took a second then coughed before beginning, “Whenever I look at you I feel a knot in my stomach. In my stomach I feel a rise in... “ He cocked his head, searching for the right word. He couldn’t. He gave up. “Your personality and how you talk just enhances my desire and I want to kiss you. I stare at your lips and I lie that I need to in order to understand what you’re saying yet I never even try to look at anyone else’s lips. My attention is fixated on you at most times and I try to suffocate that little voice in my head saying I should talk to you and reveal how I feel about you and I can’t believe I’m doing this right now.”  
Enjolras smiled and nodded. “I feel different.”  
“Oh no,” Grantaire dug his face in his hands, “I’m sorry, pretend this never happened. I shouldn’t have told you because I”m-”  
“You’re fine. It’s me who’s a baggage.”  
He paused. “With all due respect what the fuck do you mean?”  
“I feel alienated whenever you talk to our friends about how you feel about the person you’re in love- oh, is that me?”  
“How are you so slow?” He asked in pure amazement.  
“The point is I’m… not normal.... I don’t feel a knot and I don’t feel the, uh, desire to kiss.”

It took several seconds until Grantaire nodded. “That’s fine. That makes sense I suppose.” He donated another second to his thinking. “But you do feel something towards me? I just want to clarify that.”  
Embarrassed, Enjorlas arched his back, shy, “Yes. Yeah. I think so.”  
“Good. Good.”  
“Good.”  
“Yes it is.” He looked into the distance, his thoughts flying away. “Would you mind then dating me?”  
“Grantaire, I don’t think I would want to have sex with you,” He bluntly stated, “I just figured out what I was feeling wasn’t normal.”  
“Enjy,” He laughed, “I’m not sex-obssessed. I just want to be with you.”  
“I’m not a let-down?”  
“Far from it, mon ami. You are everything and more than I hoped for. Because it’s you. And you’re acting like you. You’re true to yourself. The confidence-”  
“The alcohol-”  
“Is why I admire you, Enjy. And no you’re not that drunk, you just think you’re that drunk. You’ve always been this bold and blunt. Granted, not with your feelings but more on about equality for all.”

“I am drunk though. I’ve had three glasses.”  
“Three? Wow it looks like we have an alcoholic in training.”  
“Stop.” He smiled.  
“Okay, okay, how about this? Walk on this plank,” He tapped on the floor with his foot. “If you can walk straight, that means you’re more sober than drunk.”  
“Alright.” Enjolras tried his best to keep in a straight line and he managed this exceptionally well.

He could hear Grantaire giggling behind him. He whipped around and rushed to him. “Shut up, R.” This time, he was sure not to stop himself and embraced him. As he hugged him, he squeezed him tighter, rubbing his nose on his neck. He felt warmth, one of a kind he had never felt before.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I don't know what sexual attraction is like so I just yeeted it here. so if anything is off or inaccurate that's an oopsie on my part.


End file.
